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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087391">Snippets: A Collection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission'>End_Transmission</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Among Us (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Children, Drabble Collection, M/M, More Chapters May Be Added, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Role Reversal, Size Difference, Tumblr Prompt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:40:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29087391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A small collection of Trep/Addison shorts based on prompts I received on Tumblr. Marked as complete, but open to requests or further prompts. Lengths of shorts are variable. Context and canonicity of shorts are also variable!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cyan/Red (Among Us)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Big thank you to Crow for this prompt! :) And for the art that inspired it, tbh!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Addison was not a small man. He wasn't heavy set, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>broad. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He'd been so for as long as he could remember. Square-shaped - with a stern jaw and broad shoulders and a presence that couldn't be missed. Those were all the nice words, anyway - the things people said to compliment and to soften the edge of their words derived from appraising looks Addison had never asked for. His mother, Addison thought, had said it the best - Addison was built like the broad side of a barn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe that was why he couldn't stop staring, now. His hand - his '</span>
  <em>
    <span>big, strong hand' - </span>
  </em>
  <span>was absolutely eclipsed where it laid in the palm of Trep's. Addison watched, intent on his own movements, as he traced his fingers along the Impostor's skin. He looped around the curve of one mountainous finger, lingered over a heavily calloused knuckle as big as his own hand, and slid carefully along the length of a massive and deadly-sharp claw. Addison pressed a finger against the tip of Trep's claw - and the small pinch of pain sent an electric thrill down to his toes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep gave a soft rumble - a noise Addison might have called a purr, if he weren't worried he'd spook Trep right back into his human form. It'd taken more than a little coaxing to get Trep to show Addison his real form - and Addison wasn't interested in letting Trep change back any time soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So small," Trep said, the teasing in his voice obvious, even though it was a distorted rumble as it slipped from his abdominal maw - the only mouth he had, in this form. Trep slipped his hand away from Addison's - and the man nearly complained, until he felt that same hand wrap carefully but securely around his torso. Addison couldn't help but suck in a breath as Trep all at once lifted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can't all be giant Impostors," Addison answered. Trep's massive form shook with a laugh, even as he held Addison up and slowly began to settle the rest of his body against the ground. A heavy, balancing tail swept around to lie longways against Trep's body, and once the Impostor had laid down fully he tucked Addison close. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, even you can't be perfect, Addison." Even as Addison settled against the cool, nearly reptilian skin of Trep's neck, Trep kept his hand cupped around Addison. It wasn't especially comfortable, sitting on the ground and resting against unyielding skin - but Addison kept his complaints to himself. Instead, he only laughed at Trep's quip, and let out a sigh of content as he relaxed against the Impostor. Idly, Trep scratched a claw against Addison's calf - and the impossibly gentle, careful gesture relaxed Addison even further, until he was nearly asleep then and there, wrapped in a massive, alien hand. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Impressions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Snippets from Trep and Addison's first voyage together - canonical to the 'Had To Be You' timeline.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Credit for this prompt goes to Madds - thank you! ^^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Addison had been a captain for a number of years, now, and by all accounts this crew was…average. Not especially experienced, but hardly green - a mix that could prove easy to work with, so long as they were at least competent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Addison sat at the meeting table and swept his gaze over the lot, he also considered the worst case scenario. He always did - or, at least, had done so since the first time one of his crews had been infiltrated by an Impostor. It never got easier, though - even now, he just couldn't imagine any of this crew, all of which were chatting amicable among themselves, being bloodthirsty monsters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you going to be giving introductory remarks anytime soon, Captain?" The drawled voice came from his side, and curiously Addison turned his head to look. A man in a cyan suit was sitting there, and he had his helmet resting casually in a palm, visor turned in Addison's direction. At the rather bold question, Addison felt an eyebrow raise - even if the other couldn't see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have some patience," Addison responded, "I thought you would all appreciate the chance to talk amongst yourselves and get settled in."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's been a long ascent, I'm sure what we would all </span>
  <em>
    <span>appreciate</span>
  </em>
  <span> is being free to rest."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you telling me how to do my job?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Cyan lifted his head from his hand - and even through the impenetrable glass of his visor, Addison was sure the other man was giving him a calculating and possibly scathing look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do I have to?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the principle of the matter, Addison turned his attention away from Cyan, and let the conversation around them continue for a few minutes. Only then did Addison stand and draw the crew's attention. His spiel was the usual thing - a welcome, an explanation of the various parts of the Skeld, task assignments, and of course the implementation of the buddy system. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Addison wasn't sure what he was bringing on himself when he requested that Cyan be his own buddy - but, somehow, it seemed the obvious choice. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Addison slipped the headset from his head and blinked as his eyes failed to readjust to the bright lights of Weapons. It took him a few long seconds to realize that was because there </span>
  <em>
    <span>weren't </span>
  </em>
  <span>any lights to adjust to - the room around him was pitch black. Frowning, Addison set the headset down and got to his feet. He turned towards the door - and immediately came to a standstill when he was suddenly face to face with Cyan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Addison didn't jump, but his heart caught low in his throat. The other was standing there in the darkness, looking at him - they'd briefly split so Cyan could finish a task in Navigations, but Addison hadn't realized the other man had returned. In the dark, Cyan was…imposing, somehow, although the sudden shock of it faded a bit when Cyan tilted his head in curiosity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apologies, Captain, did I startle you?" Cyan asked - and the way his voice lilted in obvious sardonic humor went a long way to easing Addison's oddly fried nerves. Addison let out a huff of a breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Cyan, most normal people would be startled to find someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>lurking </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the dark behind them," Addison retorted, "how long have you been there?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not long - the lights went out, so I came to be sure you were alright. Although," Cyan paused and tilted his head, "I guess I should have been more concerned about whether or not you'd died of fright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine," Addison said firmly, "I'm not that easily spooked by the dark, of all things -" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, just lurking men," Cyan quipped back, and Addison couldn't help but scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We need to go see what's going on with the lights. Come along and make yourself useful," Addison said. He sidestepped Cyan as he flicked on the light of his helmet and headed for the door. For a few seconds, Cyan didn't move - but before Addison could turn and see what was going on, he heard Cyan's footsteps fall into line behind him. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>And, sure, Pink had a point - it was suspicious that he'd seen Cyan near Shields. Especially as the other had been meant to complete a task in Navigations. Yet Cyan's calm assurance that Pink was either lying or had misremembered the color he'd seen was a stark contrast to Pink's angry, spitting accusation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides - it'd been two weeks. How many opportunities had Cyan had to kill Addison? The answer was too many to count - and that was the assurance Addison gave his team. Addison was still alive - Cyan simply couldn't be the Impostor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyan's clear relief and genuine gratitude - emotions so different from his usual sharp sarcasm - only further reassured Addison that he was right. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Addison knew he had to hold it together - his team, what little was left of it, needed him. They had fought Black, had managed to send the alien into space - and, yet, just that day they'd found Purple slit open top to tip. The panic on the ship was heavy and palpable - and Addison's crew </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. He had to put up the front of competent captain - even though with every death all he really wanted to do was slip into some hole and hide until it was over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think we're all missing a very important possibility," Green said, their voice stiff as they got to their feet. They swept a gaze over the small remaining crew - only five of them now - and then promptly pointed at Addison. "Maybe it's the captain! Maybe it's been him all along!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Addison grit his teeth and forced back the words he desperately wanted to throw back at the other crewmate. Bit them back, swallowed them away - Green wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong, </span>
  </em>
  <span>after all, they should be considering every possibility. Still, the accusation stung, especially when all Addison had been doing was trying to </span>
  <em>
    <span>solve </span>
  </em>
  <span>this. To </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I understand the concern," Addison began, his voice much steadier than he felt, "but I assure you -" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've been with Captain Red nearly all this time," Cyan stepped in, his own voice calm and smooth, "I'm confident I would have noticed if he were slipping off and killing the crew. Besides," He paused, and Addison could feel Cyan's gaze on him, "after we found Lime, the Captain very nearly destroyed the card reader in his grief - I can't imagine anyone being able to fake a reaction like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that." </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cyan stood as well and crossed his arms as he studied Green. "Not to point fingers, Green, but that you would even try to blame the Captain - our best bet at making it out alive - is a bit alarming."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm just saying...we should consider everyone," Green said, immediately cowed as they sat back down. Cyan's answer was a nod as he slipped back into his own seat. Bolstered by the trust of at least one of his crew, Addison took a breath and gave the others their new orders.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Addison was exhausted - all he wanted to do was sleep. He couldn't make himself turn away from the sight ahead of him, though. Cyan was standing at the massive window that lined Navigations - he was staring out at Green's disappearing body, a hand laid heavy on the glass. They had made it - but </span>
  <em>
    <span>only </span>
  </em>
  <span>they had made it. Surely, Addison thought, that guilt and pain was dragging on Cyan, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Addison called for Cyan, walked up to stand beside the other man, and on a whim reached out to lay a hand on Cyan's shoulder. It said something, Addison thought, that Cyan didn't try and move away. Addison stared out into the abyss of space - but he could feel Cyan's eyes on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you doing alright?" Addison asked, and immediately he berated himself for the lackluster, </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid </span>
  </em>
  <span>question. Still, Cyan nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Will be, now. I only wish we'd found the second Impostor before losing so many."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Agreed," Addison said. He felt the muscle of Cyan's shoulder tense beneath his hand. Worried that he'd upset the other man, Addison hurried ahead. "The ship is on track for home. I think I'll try and sleep the rest of the journey. You'll know where to find me if there are any issues."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course, captain. Rest well." Cyan's response was simple, and short, but Addison thought it genuine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Make sure to get some rest, yourself," Addison answered, the words feeling awkward even as they left him. He slipped his hand away from Cyan's shoulder, waited a heartbeat for any more response, and then turned to head for his quarters. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Addison's guilt over the demise of his crew was thick, painful, and nearly all-consuming. It was tempered, though, even if only an infinitesimal bit, by his relief that Cyan, at least, had survived.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Role Reversal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trep, a crewmate, knows that Captain Red can't be the Impostor. It's impossible. It must be Yellow.</p><p>Right?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Content warning for violence/gore and major character death. Non-Canonical AU.</p><p>Credit for this prompt to TwilightZone! Thank you!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Three left, and Trep couldn't pull his eyes away from Yellow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep wasn't a people person - but Yellow had been one of the more tolerable ones. Quiet and shy, happy to work in silence rather than idle chatter. When Captain Red had been busy, Trep had often found himself partnered up with Yellow. That was why, he supposed, her betrayal stung and surprised. That gentle Yellow could be responsible for the string of quick, quiet, and efficient murders that had stolen the rest of Trep's crewmates - he almost couldn't believe it. It was near impossible to imagine her pulling a silent knife across Pink's throat, or stabbing Purple cleanly through the head, or somehow managing to suffocate both Green and Orange in their beds while the crew slept peacefully only inches away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Trep imagined it. He believed it. He let his own anger drive him until with a shout he lunged at Yellow and pinned her to the ground, his own knife pressed against her throat. No matter how surprising, it was Yellow - it had to be Yellow, because the only other option was impossible to consider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please, please, it wasn't me," Yellow sobbed as she tried to push Trep away. "Cyan, I swear it wasn't me - please, it must have been Red -" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How dare you?" Trep asked as he pushed the knife hard enough to make her squeak and go quiet. "Captain Red has done everything in his power to save this crew from </span>
  <em>
    <span>you. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And in your dying breath, you would dare try to drag his name through the mud?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please," Yellow whimpered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cyan." At the commanding tone, Trep felt himself still. He glanced over his shoulder, one eye still watching Yellow from his periphery. Captain Red was standing, his arms crossed as he looked at the scene before him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Angry - </span>
  </em>
  <span>as angry as Trep was, just in the Captain's own subtle way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Captain," Trep answered, "it's Yellow…it has to be Yellow. Surely you don't think it's me? I thought we…" He paused to clear his throat. "Well. I thought we got along rather well, you and I."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Move away from her, Cyan. Now. Or I won't have a choice but to believe it was you all along." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep stared at the Captain in disbelief for a long moment - before he finally pushed himself carefully away from Yellow. He got quickly to his feet, knife still gripped tight in his hand in case the woman decided to attack. She didn't, though - she only pulled her knees to her body and shifted further away from them both, tears still streaking down her cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Captain, please…I promise it wasn't me. I would never - I can't even use a knife in the kitchen. I drop things all the time. I couldn't have. Please. You have to believe me. Please. Please." Yellow was sobbing again as she babbled, and the sight of it turned Trep's stomach in a windmill of anger. It didn't help when Red walked over to her, crouched in front of her, and reached out with careful, soothing hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep's breath was quickening as he watched. How could the Captain believe Yellow over him? It was he and Trep who had conversed long into the night. It was Trep who had wrapped Red's wounds when a fit of fury at the situation had driven the man to punch a wall. Still, Red reached to comfort Yellow. Still, he trusted her word over Trep's. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Capt -" Trep began in an angry huff, but he was interrupted by Red himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright, Yellow. I know it wasn't you," Red said, even as his hand reached around to grasp the back of the woman's head. "For what little it's worth, I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, in a movement so quick Trep near missed it, Red drove a sharp-edged tongue straight through the middle of Yellow's head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep could do nothing but stare as the tongue slipped back into Red's too-wide mouth, where it was surrounded by razor-sharp teeth and tentacles that tried to writhe their way free even as Red pressed his lips together. The Captain stood, and Yellow slumped to the ground as he let her go. Then, he turned, and as Trep looked Red in the face - into crystalline, shimmering white eyes - the human slowly brought his knife up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red laughed, the sound an echoing rumble that Trep felt all the way to his core. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've got guts, Cyan, I'll grant you that," Red taunted as he took a couple of steps forward, "but you'd have to be quite a bit closer to have even the chance of cutting me…and I can reach you all the way over here." He paused where he was and tilted his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I thought we got along rather well," Red mimicked, and Trep felt himself go tense. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck you," Trep spat, "You…I can't believe you would do this to your own crew. To </span>
  <em>
    <span>me. </span>
  </em>
  <span>After all those evenings, those talks - and it was you all this time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucker."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep expected more banter, or maybe that same sharp-laced tongue and a quick end. What he did not expect, however, was for Red to suddenly move - faster than Trep could track, and certainly faster than he could prepare for. There was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>crack</span>
  </em>
  <span> as he hit the ground, and he couldn't help the dazed groan that escaped him as the world danced in front of his eyes. He couldn't breathe - but he quickly realized that was not because of the fall, but instead because of Red. The Impostor had his arm pressed heavy against Trep's throat. As his body began to scream for air, Trep thrashed and beat at the creature holding him down - but he might as well have been smacking a brick wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," and despite everything, Red sounded genuinely sad, "you really were…something of a special human, Cyan." Trep could just barely feel Red's fingertips trace along the sensitive skin of his face, felt as one - and it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>sharp </span>
  </em>
  <span>- brushed at the tears Trep hadn't even realized he was shedding. He bucked again, the movement weak as his body numbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Quiet now," Red murmured, "it'll be just like going to sleep." His voice was distant as the blackness in Trep's eyes filled his vision entirely. The last thing he could remember was something soft pressed against his forehead, and the echo of Red's words in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Cyan."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Light On The Bottom Of A Clear Pool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vibe drabble based on the chapter title</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Trep didn't swim. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or, at least, he didn't swim in the public pool that Addison visited three times a week for his MIRA-ordered physical therapy. Actually, since coming to Earth, Trep has found he quite enjoys swimming - but in the interest of keeping his secret, he limits such activities to the deeper ponds near Addison's home. Trep particularly likes swimming about in a form not too dissimilar to his true one - albeit adjusted to be more aquatic. Doing so in the dead of night, with nothing but stars and fireflies to light up their space - it's near transcendent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The public pool, on the other hand, smells. The air is thick with chlorine and other human-made chemicals that sting at Trep's nose and eyes. Although it's difficult to scent much beyond that, occasionally there is the whiff of entirely too much </span>
  <em>
    <span>human </span>
  </em>
  <span>as well. It is also loud. Between the humans talking to each other and the younglings shrieking as they learn to swim - well, Trep learns to bring headphones only two trips in. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Time and time again Addison has told him there's no need for him to come at all - but watching the Captain's back is a habit Trep finds difficult to shake. Besides, it isn't all bad - Trep never tires of watching Addison push himself. Especially when the human is in naught but swim trunks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite all that, today Trep can't help but notice there's something profound about the scene. Sunlight is drifting in through the windows placed high above the pool - and the light is dancing along the pool's bottom, casting bright spirals and shadows in a mosaic of patterns. It's not the first time Trep's attention has been caught by light - but it is the first time he's ever noticed it </span>
  <em>
    <span>here. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He watches it, for a while - watches the way the ripples of the pool change the light and its patterns. Trep squints at it on those occasions where it glints a little stronger than usual off of the water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Familiar movement catches Trep's eye, and he wrenches his gaze away from the bottom of the pool. He's just in time to spot Addison as the man shifts positions - and then, all at once, he's caught in a beam of sunlight of his own. The light glistens off the water that slickens Addison's skin, and it plays off of him in patterns not unlike those at the bottom of the pool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's a brief moment in time, and soon enough Addison is out of the light, but despite the smell and the sounds and the people - Trep feels just a little more content.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If you've left ideas for drabbles - I have not forgotten, I swear. I fully intend to do at least most of them!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Child</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trep isn't particularly enjoying this 'family get together' to begin with - but when he's suddenly handed a hatchling, the moment becomes near hellish.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This one wasn't really a prompt per se, but it was a Tumblr short, so it belongs here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The house is loud and boisterous - and Trep would be lying if he said he was having a good time. Between the noise and the way it's near impossible not to constantly bump into someone, Trep feels on edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries to shove it away, though - he can't help but stand stiffly, can't help the way he feels wired and ready to run at the slightest provocation, but he can keep to himself and put on a facade of politeness when it's asked of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It helps that, despite the surrounding crowd being made of his own family, Addison doesn't seem especially comfortable either. He stays close to Trep, and Trep doesn't even mind if it's because Addison worries about Trep's temper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Impostor would never lash out here, of course - he wouldn't do that to Addison's kin, wouldn't do that to himself when on a planet surrounded by humans - but if it keeps Addison close, Trep is in no hurry to dissuade the notion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Addison is pulled away. It happens so suddenly Trep doesn't even notice the human is gone - so suddenly that Addison cannot refuse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Trep is left alone, standing in a corner of the kitchen, tucked close to the fridge and surrounded by talking, laughing humans. Strangers. Trep tenses further and starts looking about for an escape. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're Addison's partner, right?" Trep startles at the sudden voice, and when he looks in front of him he sees a human woman looking at him curiously. A hatchling - a baby, to use the human vernacular - is laid against her shoulder. The woman bounces slightly in place, even as she waits for Trep's response. So he nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Rachel, it's nice to meet you," she says, and she adjusts the baby a bit before holding a hand in Trep's direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trep," He answers, taking her hand in a quick, firm shake before he lets go again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's an interesting name," Rachel says, her mouth quirking to the side in a way that reminds Trep that she and Addison are related in some fashion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I chose it myself," Trep says with a shrug. It's their cover story - choosing names different from those given at birth is not so unusual in the human world, and it allows Trep to keep his own name rather than live under an alias. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh! Well, it's nice to meet you Trep. I -" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel is interrupted by another child who shoves past the woman, loud sobs escaping them as they go. Alarmed, Rachel turns to look after them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's wrong, Sasha? Sasha! Oh - could you hold him for a minute? I'll be right back!" And before Trep can fully register what is happening, his hands are full of human hatchling and Rachel is already gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alarm building quickly in his chest, Trep looks down to where he is holding the baby. They are perched across his hands, and their face contorts as they shift slightly. Trep's breathing grows shallow - he's almost certain this is not the proper way to hold a human baby, but he has no idea what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>way is. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trep has suddenly forgotten his own strength, and he is all at once positive that if he so much as moves the baby, he's liable to accidentally fling them into the ceiling or break their neck. </span>
</p><p><span>The baby wiggles again, and they whine - and unbidden, Trep feels a similar noise escape his own throat. He looks up desperately as the baby fusses even more, grows even more upset - but no one seems to have noticed his predicament, and Rachel is gone from sight.</span> </p><p>
  <span>The baby all at once bursts into noisy tears, and Trep is half a second from laying them on the nearest flat surface, fleeing the home, and never showing his face to any of these humans again. That would require movement, though, and Trep is cemented in place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright little man, it's okay," Addison is suddenly there, and it takes all of Trep's willpower not to crumble as the man reaches over and slips the baby away from him. Instead, Trep watches as Addison puts the child to his shoulder just as Rachel had done, and makes soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>shushing </span>
  </em>
  <span>noises as he bounces in place. It works like a charm - the baby quiets almost immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright?" Addison asks, looking at Trep. For a moment, the Impostor can only stare back, his hearts still pounding in his ears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Who gives their h- baby - to a stranger and then leaves?" Trep finally hisses, but rather than rise to the aggression, Addison just smiles with something like understanding. Often, that almost patronizing look only riles Trep up further - but this time, he feels himself begin to calm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry - with so many kids around at these things, people tend to just pass them off to the nearest person with arms. We're all family here, you know?" Addison takes a moment to bounce a little more as the baby fusses again. "You wanna try again? I can show you how to hold him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Trep responds without a thought as he tucks his arms close to his body and draws away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, that's fine too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rachel returns shortly after, flustered and apologetic as she takes her child back from Addison. The two speak for a moment before she is once again drawn away, this time taking her son with her. Once she's gone, Addison moves closer, tugs Trep's arm free from his body, and then Addison intertwines their arms together and clasps Trep's hand tight. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"About ready to go?" Addison asks, and Trep gives him a sharp look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't cut your visit short for my sake, Addison. I can manage."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So I've seen," and this time, the light smile Addison gives him seems grateful. "But I've had enough, myself - I've already said most of my goodbyes, anyway."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"In that case," Trep says with a huff, "let's go before another of your kin tries to shove a baby my way."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. "I'm Never Going to Leave You, I Promise."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>CW: Major character death, sad baby.</p>
<p>When Trep is killed in the line of his duty, Addison is left with a distraught Impostor child.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another Tumblr prompt response - been done for awhile but I haven't gotten around to actually updating this. </p>
<p>This piece is an alternate universe take of the Pup timeline.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"He attacked me," Black pants, one hand over the bleeding wound at his side, the other still shakily holding his gun. The others might have argued, might have considered Black the murderer - if not for Trep's quickly cooling, clearly inhuman body on the ground in front of them. As the others clamor amongst themselves, Addison can't quite get himself to join in. Has eyes only for the body in front of him. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is…right. Better this way. Because Addison knows damn well that Black's story is true. Trep had aimed at Black and - well. Black had been armed, and they'd fought back. Play stupid games, so on and so forth. Addison has felt uneasy about Trep's </span>
  <em>
    <span>job </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the start - has known all along, really, that he'd not gotten through to the Impostor. What would Addison have done if Trep's attack had succeeded? Ignored it? <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. He couldn't have. He couldn't have trusted the Impostor after that, couldn't have just let Trep get away with it. Addison has to believe he is a better person than that. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No matter what…strange feelings he'd had for the Impostor. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's better this way. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It doesn't make it any easier, though, for Addison. It sure doesn't make it any easier later, either, when he has to sit down with Trepper and try to explain to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hatchling </span>
  </em>
  <span>what has happened. Harder to do, still, when Trep's body had been ejected and Addison can't even show Trepper what he means. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trepper doesn't get it - Addison can see it clear as day. Trepper is confused, and upset, and he - <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wants Trep. He cries for Trep, calls for him - would wander the ship in search, if Addison let him. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Addison a lot of effort to keep himself from crying at the sight. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It helps a little when the others start to debate about Trepper - because then, Addison has to fight for the hatchling. And he does fight - tells each and every one of them exactly what he'd think of anyone callous enough to eject a child. Shames them, something he's always been good at, until the subject is dropped. None of them want to be around Trepper - they're afraid of him, nervous - but they don't bother him. Or Addison. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, eventually, Trepper seems to understand that Trep is not coming back. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops crying for his father - but for a time, he becomes quiet and despondent and Addison goes through desperate measures just to make sure that this kid, who usually eats everything in sight, eats enough to keep him nourished. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He becomes clingy, next. He refuses to let Addison out of his sight, and demands to be always in the Captain's arms. It makes work difficult, near impossible - but Addison can't dredge up anything but apologies and sorrow for the small Impostor. He obliges, as much as he can, and when he can't he always does his best to keep a hand on Trepper's head, or a leg within grabbing distance. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, one night, there is a late emergency. Addison is there before he can think of it, spends an hour or more stabilizing and then fixing the Oxygen system. It leaves him irritated and tired, but all that fades when he returns to his quarters only to hear Trepper all but wailing at the closed door. Addison is quick to hurry in and scoop the tiny Impostor up - and the way Trepper clings to him very nearly shatters him all over again. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's okay, it's okay," Addison hushes as he crosses over to sit on the edge of his bed. Trepper sobs, and Addison feels the pinch of teeth at the suit of his shoulder. "I've got you, you're alright," Addison murmurs as he pats at Trepper's back - the child's wails quiet, but he continues to sniffle and whine. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Gone," Trepper whimpers after a moment, and with a grimace, Addison closes his eyes. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know kiddo," Addison responds, "but it was only for a little bit, wasn't it? I came right back."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Treppers answer is another, almost high-pitched whine. Addison bounces him softly against his shoulder, hums softly under his breath - it takes time to get through to the baby, but eventually Trepper settles down a little once more. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I know it's scary, when you can't see me," Addison says softly a bit later, once Trepper's soft cries have faded again. "I'll always come right back, though. I'm never going to leave you, okay? I promise."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Addison doesn't think Trepper quite believes it - and after Trep, Addison can hardly blame the hatchling. Still, for the moment he seems more content as, with one last soft whine, Trepper snuggles in close. He's asleep soon after, and Addison lets out a breath and wonders if it's too early to think about retirement.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Honestly, most of my writing recently has been for small pieces not really suitable for sharing - sorry for all the prompts I haven't gotten to yet! ;;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Fishing In The Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Trep doesn't much care for fishing - but that doesn't mean there isn't something of value in the woods.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another small one - this one wasn't a prompt so much as something I'd been wanting to do for awhile. The song 'Fishing in the Dark' was inspiration though.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The sun has barely set - it's gone from the sky, but a vivid dusting of reds and oranges remains in its place. It's not quite enough to light the thick woods, but instead leaves them in a thin, dusky darkness. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is, in Addison's mind, the perfect time. The woods around his home are spectacularly alive - full of bird songs and frog calls and everything in between. It is also one of the best times for fishing - which is what finds him sat on a damp, muddy shore, line and a single foot both in the water. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every now and then, he hears the crunch of leaves or a snap of a stick from somewhere behind him. Addison had tried to introduce Trep to the concept of fishing - but the Impostor had found the activity entirely too passive. Addison had </span>
  <em>
    <span>also </span>
  </em>
  <span>tried telling Trep that he didn't have to come out just to be bored - but Trep had insisted, nonetheless. Whether he was being watchful, or just enjoyed being outside in some capacity, Addison couldn't be sure. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't going to say no to the company, though. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sudden quiet is deafening, and as soon as Addison registers it he feels the hairs on his neck rise. It's stupid, he knows that logically - this is not a ship in space, besieged by others who could possibly equal Trep. This is earth, and the woods Addison grew up in, and a place in which Trep was by and far the most dangerous thing. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he can't shake the unease. So Addison stabs his fishing rod into the bank, gets to his feet, and turns to investigate. He bites his tongue, at first, with caution honed on dangerous journeys - but then Addison shakes his head with an internal scowl. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Woods. Home. The biggest threat is Trep deciding it'd be fun to jump him from the quickly growing shadows. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Trep?" He calls, and he staunchly ignores the part of him that finches at the obvious echo of his own voice. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Over here."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trep's voice - close and calm - is an instant balm. The anxiety that had been rapidly building in Addison dissipates almost as quickly, and in its place it leaves curiosity. He follows the voice, pushes through a clump of bushes and grass, and comes to a stop when he spots Trep standing in a small, partially overgrown clearing. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The area is practically ablaze with fireflies. They pulse in alternating patterns that keep the encroaching darkness at bay. For Addison, it isn't a new sight - but that doesn't detract from the beauty of it. And even if he weren't awed by the fireflies themselves, there was no way he could have ignored Trep. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glow of the fireflies echoes off of Trep's skin, his hair - but most catchingly are his eyes. He is staring at the scene around him in something approaching wonderment, and the light glinting off his widened eyes makes them sparkle and dance and </span>
  <em>
    <span>shine. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He reaches a hand out towards a cluster of fireflies, watches them flit haphazardly away from his fingers. Addison can see Trep breathing - slow but shallow things. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's such a strange sight, so soft and unlike the bloodthirsty Impostor at its center. Addison finds himself taken in regardless - struck in place as heated adoration swells in his chest. It takes him a long moment to move again, but when he does he crosses over to Trep and stands just behind the Impostor. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"They're like tiny stars," Trep says, a hush in his voice as if he's afraid to spook them. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Watch," Addison says. He steps slightly around Trep, then reaches out and carefully cups his hands around a firefly. He turns towards Trep, opens his hands, and watches as Trep's eyes follow the quickly fleeing bug. The Impostor is quick to mimic - he steps forward, his eyes seem to focus, and then he reaches out and manages to curl his hands carefully around a small handful of fireflies. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trep brings his hands to his face and carefully opens them - there is a brief burst of glow along the skin of his cheeks, and then the fireflies scatter away from him. His eyes dart quickly, hopping between each bug until they merge once more into the grand collection surrounding them both. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Beautiful," Trep says after a long second, eyes turned slightly up at a group of fireflies that climb high into the sky. <br/></span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Beautiful," Addison agrees - but his eyes continue to trace the glow that dances along Trep's cheeks. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is marked as complete - but I am open to prompt requests and may add further Trep/Addison ones to this collection in the future.</p><p>If there's something you'd like to see, feel free to drop your request in the comments. Or, if you'd rather, you can come find me at <a href="http://pyroweasel.tumblr.com">my Tumblr.</a></p><p>(Absolutely open to requests featuring Skitch/Jamie or even other members of the ensemble as well!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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